


a state of being not commonly observed

by mieraspeller



Series: werewolf summer [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Friendship, Gen, Pack Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:15:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mieraspeller/pseuds/mieraspeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times the pack realizes that Derek is a person who does things besides lurk, creep, and angst all day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely in the same 'verse as Battle Plans.
> 
> \--
> 
> I wrote this back in November and forgot all about posting it. I think I had someone read it over? And I read it over a couple time, but if you see any issues please let me know!

Stiles has sort of become the food-getting guy for the pack. It’s fine, he’s got a vehicle, most of the rest of them don’t, and Jackson compensates by alternating with Derek to pay for the food. Which they need a _lot_ of. Especially since they finally wore Derek down and started meeting a couple times a week at Derek’s terrible apartment. Mainly to hang out and work out a plan of attack on the Alpha Pack. They’ve been searching for Erica and Boyd, too, but Derek gets this really betrayed look when they talk about it. 

So, it’s a pretty standard day for Stiles to drive Scott and Isaac over to Derek’s after school and then leave again to pick up the food once Jackson and Lydia show up. This time they’re all going over to the rail station so the werewolves can beat each other up, and Derek decides to start their training by making them all run there. Stiles and Lydia are the only ones left, besides Derek, so Lydia drives Jackson’s car over to the station while Stiles waits for Derek to finish ordering the food. 

As soon as he gets to his car he remembers that he needs Derek’s credit card because there is no way that Stiles’ paltry bank account is going to be able to cover a bunch of teenagers and teenaged werewolves’ appetites. 

So he runs back upstairs, and wow. This is unexpected. Stiles is definitely not imagining this -- Derek is reading a book (that isn’t Stiles’ borrowed dictionary). He gapes. It’s kind of his thing. Then, when Derek looks up, and because Stiles apparently has a _death wish_ , says:

“And here I thought you were more of a nonverbal communication guy.”

Derek lowers the book and his eyebrows, looks like he’s not sure he should be confused or angry, and then decides on both. “I like reading.”

“Really,” Stiles says, wonderingly, and then his voice turns skeptical. “Okay, no. Last week you barged into my house and watched my TV and ate my popcorn and drank my soda for like ten hours while you pined --”

“I didn’t _pine_ ,” Derek protests, but Stiles continues like he hadn’t just interrupted.

“ _Pined_ over your sad broken television.”

Derek raises the book and ignores Stiles. Stiles glances over at the still sad and broken television (courtesy of a fight between Scott and Jackson, which, come to think of it, is probably the reason the training sessions are being held elsewhere). Then he has to bend down a bit to see the cover of the book, and really?

“You’re reading _Emma_?” Stiles demands, only remembering that Derek has neighbors in time to tone down the last word. He really doesn’t think Derek would appreciate being called in for a noise complaint. Again.

“Do you have something against Jane Austen?” Derek responds pissily, and Stiles jerks back, startled. Derek actually looks -- he looks really offended. Stiles backtracks mentally and winces. Yeah, okay, he was being a little ridiculous. Derek is six years older than him, graduated from high school and college, obviously he knows how to read.

“Uh. No. Sorry.” Stiles tries to remember what the point of him even coming back from hall minus the trip for food he’d planned. “Ah. I actually just came to get your card, and stayed for a side trip into assholery.” He skirts the couch to grab his jacket from where it’s crumpled on the floor next to it, and Derek reaches out to catch his wrist. Stiles looks down, another frantic apology and or plea for his life at the ready, and Derek’s face softens. Not a lot. But enough that Stiles can tell.

“It was my mom’s favorite book.”

“Oh. Uh. My mom loved Isaac Asimov,” Stiles offers tentatively, because he knows a peace offering when he sees one. Derek nods and lets go of Stiles’ wrist, before digging in his back pocket and handing his entire wallet over to Stiles. 

Stiles stands there for another moment, unsure, before Derek frowns at him again. “Go get the food.” 

“Oh! Right. Yeah, I’ll just. Go. And do that.” Stiles spins on his heel and marches out the door. Mind. Reeling.


	2. Isaac

Isaac doesn’t hate living with Derek or anything. He just prefers staying at Scott’s house. Mrs. McCall is an awesome cook. And when she asks Isaac about his homework, he knows she’s not going to flip out if he tells her he’ll finish it during his free period. (Not that Derek does that. He mostly just reads and looks angrily into space.) Sometimes, Mrs. McCall will give him this kind of soft look that reminds Isaac of his own mother. 

Anyways, Derek probably prefers being alone. He doesn’t really seem to like people. And he rented a one bedroom apartment for a reason, right?

Isaac shuts the door softly and winces when he sees Derek blinking at him from where he was sleeping on the couch. 

“Where were you?” Derek asks. He sounds tired. 

“Scott’s. He’s with Allison now, so...” he trails off and shrugs. Derek doesn’t say anything, just looks annoyingly knowing, so Isaac stalks past him into the room that Derek told him to put his stuff in. Well, he actually said, “Put your crap away,” and sort of glared at the bedroom door, so Isaac figured that was what he meant. 

He hasn’t really done anything with it. He looks around, and realizes that Derek hasn’t either. The bed doesn’t smell like Derek, not like the couch does. But Isaac’s not going to feel guilty. It’s not like he asked Derek for the room. And Derek was living in a burnt down house. A couch in a crappy apartment is a big step up. Isaac kicks off his shoes and crawls into the bed. It smells very faintly of Scott, from when he was injured after they had their first run in with the Alpha Pack. But that was over a week ago. 

Isaac realizes he hasn’t spent the night here for a lot longer than that. 

After about twenty minutes of being unable to sleep Isaac hears the couch creak, then Derek’s footsteps shuffling across the terrible shag carpet. There’s a knock on his door. 

“What?” Isaac sighs, and the door opens a crack.

“Are you okay?” Derek asks. It’s in the same slightly angry tone that Derek always has, but Isaac thinks he can see concern in his expression. 

Which is weird. 

“Um. Yeah. I guess I’m not used to sleeping here.” 

Derek flinches slightly, and wow. Suddenly, guilt. He realizes that, yeah, Derek did give him this room, and he’s been sleeping on the couch for months while Isaac’s been avoiding him. 

“I’ll get used to it,” Isaac says quickly. Impulsively. But he thinks he will. Especially since Scott and Allison are moving from probationary dating to seriously dating again. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Derek says slowly. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Isaac nods and Derek shuts the door silently. Another minute passes and the couch creaks again. He can hear Derek’s heartbeat start to slow if he strains his ears.

This time it doesn’t take long for Isaac to fall asleep.


	3. Erica

Erica hears cursing when Stiles drops her and Isaac off at Derek’s apartment. They get out of the Jeep and he drives off, already doing some strange beatboxing thing to the song on the radio (Erica really wonders sometimes why she ever had a crush on him), and Isaac looks at her long sufferingly. 

“He bought a table,” is all Isaac says, and Erica raises her eyebrow. 

“And?”

“You’ll see,” Isaac says, already bounding up the stairs and letting himself in. Erica follows reluctantly. She really wishes that Boyd hadn’t promised his mom that he’d go home for dinner tonight. After they were rescued from the Alpha Pack’s tender mercies, she’s still not sure how to act around Derek. She feels kinda little bad for abandoning him, but he was seriously the worst alpha ever. He’s better now, since he actually listens to the rest of the pack occasionally. But he still looks at her suspiciously. 

She pushes open the door and feels her eyes widen. The box the table (and chairs!) must have come in is _shredded_ , pieces littering the floor with the coffee table flipped over and on the couch that’s shoved against the wall. And Derek is red faced and red eyed and wielding a hammer. Erica is pretty sure that flat pack furniture generally doesn’t require a hammer. 

“What...” she starts, and Derek’s head jerks up. He looks startled, which is weird because Derek always knows when people are around, and then embarrassed, which is way more weird. Weirder than Erica can honestly comprehend for a moment. He looks like her little brother does when she catches him watching Power Rangers. Apparently thirteen is too old to for that sort of thing.

“It’s harder than it looks,” Derek says suddenly, voice flat and Erica has to hold back a smile. 

“Give me the instructions,” she says, shrugging off her coat and pushing the door shut. 

Derek looks uncertain, so Erica leans over and snatches the paper from the floor, peering at it. “Okay, so find part A and C, and then the long screws.” He doesn’t move and Erica drops to the floor across from him and the mess on the floor and starts picking them out herself. “Where’s the Phillips head screwdriver?”

He rummages under two possible chair legs and then hands it over, face still looking amusingly uncomprehending. “You can build things?” 

“I can follow instructions,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “We should get a TV stand next. I don’t know why you didn’t make Jackson buy one when he broke the TV.” Which wasn’t something that Erica had been around for, but Scott and Stiles had done a play by play of what happened a few days ago when she’d mentioned the relative disparity between the quality of the TV -- and the rest of Derek’s fail apartment. Derek still doesn’t say anything, and Erica sighs. “Don’t be weird. I need a table, too, right?” 

“There will be no non food items on this table,” Derek says firmly, looking slightly more relaxed and Erica scoffs. 

“Please. You’re not the boss of me.” She waits, head bent over the instructions, but Derek just lets out a rusty sounding laugh and hands her a plastic bag of screws.


	4. Boyd

Being a werewolf doesn’t make it any easier to get up when his alarm goes off. Boyd had discovered that early on. Spending nearly every night for the last two weeks in the Preserve setting up traps for the past week, and then nearly two days recovering from Alpha inflicted injuries again almost makes him miss the pre-werewolf days when he didn’t have friends and could sleep as much as he wanted, as long as it didn’t interfere with school. Almost. 

He misses the bus, and being a werewolf does make his jog to school a little faster. He’s considering stopping for breakfast, since he’s already late, when he sees a familiar Camaro parked across the street. 

It puts him immediately on guard. Boyd can’t really imagine what sort of supernatural threat would be over here, but he figures that since Derek did save his life, he owes the guy a helping hand if he needs one. He steps up to the car, trying to catch Derek’s scent or listen for him, if he’s near enough to hear. 

Catching a faint scent, Boyd follows it -- to the door of the Laundromat across the street. He blinks and looks through the windows, but it looks calm. No one’s screaming. Huh. 

He looks again, just in case. And Derek’s leaning against a dryer. He glances over when Boyd pushes the door open. 

“Hey,” Boyd says cautiously. He doesn’t think that dryers can be imbued with supernatural powers, but better safe than sorry. 

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Derek asks.

“Yeah.” Derek crosses his arms, and Boyd feels like maybe the guy missed his calling as a truant officer. “I missed the bus. I saw your car, though, and just wanted to...” Check to make sure there wasn’t another apocalyptic event going down, he doesn’t say, but Derek looks a little rueful, like he knows what Boyd was thinking.

“If you wait a minute, I can give you a ride,” Derek says, glancing at the timer on the dryer he’s next to. 

Boyd doesn’t ask the first question that crosses his mind, or even the second. He’s never really thought about it, but of course Derek has laundry. And he sure doesn’t have a washer or dryer in that crappy apartment. Derek is waiting for an answer still.

Well. He’s already late. Boyd nods and drops into one of the plastic chairs to wait and pretends he doesn’t see Derek’s surprised, then pleased, expression.


	5. Scott

“Is this okay?” Scott asks, feeling a little anxious as he gestures at the Beacon Burger, but Allison just grins and tugs at her scarf. 

“It’s fine, Scott. I love this place.” 

Scott grins helplessly. “Good.” They get out of the car and head to the door, and Scott nearly wolfs out then when he smells another werewolf there. And not Isaac, or Erica even, but _Derek_. Ugh. Thankfully Allison ducks into the ladies’ room, so Scott goes over to the booth where Derek’s seated and slides into the seat across from him.

“What are you doing here?” Scott hisses. “Go away! I promised Allison that I’d keep all your werewolf crap away from our dates.” 

“I’m not-”

“What is it this time? Vampires? Zombies? Is the Alpha Pack back again? Ugh, just call me about it later and I promise I’ll come help, but I’m on a date here, dude. You can’t just come interrupt my personal life _all the time_.” Scott leans back and glares at Derek. Because Derek still isn’t moving and Allison’s not going to be in the bathroom forever. 

Derek looks at the table, where there’s a plate covered in food, then back at Scott. A passing waitress pauses at the table, and frowns. At Derek, obviously, even though she’s kind of facing more at Scott. 

Scott waits, glaring, then crosses his arms. “Dude, go!”

“Can I have this to go, please,” Derek says, _finally_ , and Scott’s mouth drops open. Wow, that was actually a little easier than he’d expected.

“Sure, hon,” the waitress says sweetly. “But don’t feel like you need to leave because someone is harassing you.” 

“It’s fine,” Derek says, at the same time that Scott realizes that she’s talking about _Scott_ harassing _Derek_ which is about as ridiculous as... he pauses and glances around the diner again. At Derek, who’s glaring down at his plate, and the waitress, already rounding the counter with a to go box. 

Oh. 

“Oh.” Scott slides out of the booth hastily. “Oh, man. I’m sorry, dude, I just kind of... saw you. And thought, oh no, another werewolf crisis and. You’re just here to eat.” 

Derek kind of jerks his head in what could be considered a nod and Scott feels really bad now. 

“You really don’t have to go,” he says again, but the waitress is already glaring at him and insisting on boxing Derek’s food for him, and Derek follows her to the counter to take care of the check. Scott stands there for another moment. Not quite sure what to do. 

Allison walks over then, smiling. “Is this our table?” she asks. 

“Uh. No.” Scott winces and tries not to see Derek leaving with a styrofoam box in hand. “Actually, I think we should go somewhere else.” The waitress is still glaring at him and Scott thinks she might actually spit in their food if they stay. “I really want Chinese food all of a sudden!”

“Oh. Sure, that’s fine,” Allison says, shrugging, and Scott gives silent thanks that his girlfriend is so completely cool. Especially since he might have to ask her advice on how to apologize to his sort of werewolf mentor later.


	6. Derek

The pack has been acting strange recently. More strange than even normal high school teenager actions. Lydia had interrogated him on his favorite foods last week and Allison, Derek swears, had been _taking notes_. He doesn’t think that they’ll try to poison him, especially since Isaac lives here, too, but it’s making him edgy all the same. For the last few days, he’s pretty sure that Erica and Boyd have been coming over while Derek’s out and leaving stuff in Isaac’s room, but he promised not to go in there without Isaac’s permission, so he can’t even check. And Stiles showed up the other day and started measuring his living room without a word. Derek had let him at it, because he was honestly a little afraid to ask. Plus, Stiles and Lydia had both been working with Deaton a lot, so he had a vague idea that it was for some sort of protective barrier. Maybe. Even now that they’ve been working together for months and managed to run the Alpha Pack out of Beacon Hills together, it didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else out there gunning for their pack.

Case in point: Scott’s frantic phone call to Derek ten minutes ago. And now Derek’s in the woods in February, trying to track Scott down to save his dumb ass, and wondering _once again_ why no one in his pack ever answers their phones. 

He ends up finding Scott easily. 

“Seriously, Scott.” 

“I’m sorry, dude, I can’t get down, my claws,” Scott starts complaining and Derek sighs and looks heavenward. Or Scott-ward. Since Scott is apparently _stuck in a tree_. 

“Right. Think of Allison,” he tells Scott, and a minute later the kid falls out of the tree. Derek doesn’t bother catching him. Whatever he did to deserve getting saddled with this idiot, he doesn’t even want to know.

“Sorry, sorry,” Scott says, jumping up and brushing himself off. “Come on, let’s go. Where’d you park your car?”

Derek rolls his eyes and they run back to where he parked, and then go back over to his apartment. The rest of the pack is there, and Derek is not looking forward to having another talk with them about keeping their cell phones on and charged, and actually _answering_ them. Scott sprints past Derek and up the stairs. Derek squints after him suspiciously. He can hear seven heartbeats in the house, not including Scott, so everyone’s there. 

He pushes open the door cautiously and then rears back in shock. 

There are streamers. And balloons. And, Jesus, a _tower of cupcakes._

“What the hell,” he says faintly, and Isaac fairly bounces over. 

“Surprise!”

Derek stares around the room again. At his pack, this group of teenagers all grinning at him (well, Erica is sort of smirking, but whatever). 

“It’s not my birthday,” he says, slowly. He’d spent his birthday recuperating from a perforated lung from one of the Alphas, and fending off the tender mercies of Deaton. The man had a terrible bedside manner. Which, considering he’s a vet, isn’t exactly unexpected. 

Impatient, Stiles pushes Isaac out of the way and shoves a paper crown on Derek’s head. Under normal circumstances Derek would have been able to avoid it, but these are definitely not normal circumstances. “What.” 

“Happy Alpha Day,” Stiles tells him, then he and Isaac pull him the rest of the way into the apartment and shut the door firmly behind him. 

“What,” Derek says again.

“Dude, he totally thought I was actually stuck in the tree,” Scott laughs, and Allison says, “Have a cupcake! Lydia and I made them.”

“They’re good,” Erica promises, and Lydia gives her a dirty look. 

“They would have been better if you hadn’t eaten half the icing.” 

“It’s a compliment, jeez!”

“And we have sandwiches, too,” Boyd interrupts, before the girls start yelling. 

“A year ago today, you ripped out Peter’s throat,” Stiles chimes in. “Sadly it didn’t take, but hey! You’re like, a thousand times better at Alpha-ing than you were then.” 

“Alpha-ing,” Derek can’t help but repeat, incredulous. But everyone’s nodding in agreement with Stiles, and Lydia presses a cupcake in his hand. 

“Just enjoy it. We’re not currently in mortal danger, none of us are in danger of failing out of Junior year, and you have a red velvet cupcake in your hand.” She steps back and puts her hands on her hips. They’re all looking at him expectantly.

“Thanks,” he says, quietly. And he eats his cupcake. It is pretty delicious. 

 

End!


End file.
